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zepskies · 4 months

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Wake Me Up - Part 4

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: The moment we've all been waiting for...

Song Inspo: “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers.

Word Count: 4.6K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! PTSD, medical trauma, angst, hurt/comfort, smut and feels (and "herb" smoking lol).

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 4: “The Power in You”

In the morning, you woke before the man sleeping beside you. The longer you stared at his peaceful face, the more you wanted to remember why your heart ached just looking at him. And after last night, you couldn’t doubt him anymore.

Ben cared about you. Your heart could even hope to believe that he loved you, even if that hope surprised you.

He made you feel comfortable and warm. He made you feel safe.

So with these thoughts on your mind, you carefully slipped out of bed and got freshened up for the day. You tried to be as quiet as possible, and when you padded out into the living room on bare feet, you found the rest of the apartment empty.

Marie must’ve gone to work already, you realized, as it was nearly 10:00 a.m. Instead of going into the kitchen for your usual ritual of coffee and rummaging for breakfast, you found yourself all too curious about the man still snoring down the hall.

You decided to venture into the office you apparently shared with him. There was a big crate of vinyl records, a few of which featured Ben on them with various artists of the 70s and 80s. The cheesy album covers made you smile in amusement.

You moved on to the books on the shelves. Most of these seemed to be from your collection, as you recognized your favorites. Your fingers brushed over their dusty spines.

The pads of your fingers paused over something binder-like, not book-like. You pulled it out and realized it was a photo album. So, bringing it over to Ben’s large leather chair, you sat down and flipped it open.

The first pictures were in black and white. You didn’t recognize the young woman in one of them. Not until you saw her again next to a tall, stoic looking man, who had Ben’s facial structure and broad frame. You saw the young and cocky versions of Ben distilled in sepia tones, and it made a smirk pull at your lips.

The further you flipped through the album, the more your attention got sucked in. There was an old-school polaroid of you with Frenchie and Kimiko, sharing milkshakes. Then you and Annie, clinking cocktails together. Followed by you and M.M. trying to beat Butcher at Backgammon.

And then one of you, your friend Yvette, and her son Devon in Central Park. Another beside it, on that same day, where Ben had an arm raised high and parallel to the ground, and Devon clung onto his arm with a wide smile.

You brushed your fingers over that picture in wonder. You didn’t remember that day, even though you were sure you must have been there…

It was so odd to see so much of your life in pictures, yet it was all still so fuzzy, or entirely blank in your mind.

You paused, blushing once again when you saw the picture of you getting out of the shower with the towel barely wrapped around you. Why the hell would this be in a photo album?

You quickly moved on. Though you stopped next at a picture of you and Ben in what looked like a dark nightclub. The way he was holding you, looking at you like he was ready to devour you, and the way you were looking up at him, with a smile that said he’d better damn well try…

It made a sharp pain lance behind your eyes.

You gasped and held a hand to your temple, flinching at the sudden sensation. You’d taken your medication. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

But your vision altered. In your mind’s eye, you saw a dark club where people were dancing to Latin pop. You were clothed in black leather and flashing lights, and someone was spinning you across the dance floor.

As the scenes began to change in flashes, the pain in your head intensified. You whimpered and gripped your head with both hands. The photo album slid off your lap and to the floor.

You remembered being tied to a chair, staring up at Ben’s stoic face. And there were so many other faces you knew that you knew: Hughie and Annie, M.M., Butcher, Kimiko, Frenchie, Frank, Loco, Saul, your mother and sister, Grace, Stan Edgar, your father, Jon…

And Ben. He was standing over you, with worried eyes. You were pinned to the ground this time—a sharp pain in your shoulder.

“Stay awake.” It was both an order and a plea as the walls of a tower fell around you.

But it mixed with flashes of a knife carving across your flesh. Of demands and questions over and over as you resisted.

No, no, no, no…

You didn’t realize that you’d screamed loud enough to reverberate on the walls. You didn’t hear the thundering footsteps that brought Ben tearing into the office. He took one wide-eyed look at you, slumped and huddling on the floor, rocking yourself, holding your head with both hands, and he got down to one knee in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, grabbing your shoulders.

You couldn’t speak. And to Ben, it didn’t seem like you were even hearing him as tears slipped down your face.

“Hey!” he barked, startling you with a flinch, but you blinked faster and looked up at him. Part of him felt a measure of relief at that small victory.

“Tell me what's happening,” he said, with deeply furrowed brows.

He held your face in his hands, and he could feel you shaking under his grasp. You uttered an agonized sound and grabbed onto his wrists, shutting your eyes tight.

“It hurts!” you managed to grit out. “Hurts bad this time.”

For the second time in his long life, Ben felt helpless. That feeling clawed through his stomach and up into his throat. It was like he was watching you fall apart, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

…No. His jaw locked as he ground his teeth. No. He wasn’t going to let you break.

“Wait here,” he said. He didn't want to move you, in case that made it worse.

He left you briefly just to grab his cell phone, but he was calling Dr. Jeong on his way back to you. There he kneeled on the ground and pulled you close while he waited for the damn doctor to answer. You clung to his shirt, pressed your face into his chest and wept hot tears.

Ben dropped the phone when you cringed, with a pained cry. He called your name and tried to pry you off him just enough so that he could see your face.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he muttered, pressing a hand to your cheek. “Hey! Look at me!”

There was a long moment where you couldn’t answer him.

Then, slowly, slowly…the pulsing behind your eyes and at the back of your head began to recede. Not all the way, but enough to blink your eyes open and release a breath. You were trembling, with your fingers wound tightly in Ben’s shirt. You were able to let go.

You blinked certain shadows out of the corners of your eyes while you caught your breath. When you next looked up at Ben, you saw that his face was tight with apprehension. It confused you.

“Ben?” you prompted. He took your hand, whether to steady you or himself, he’d never tell.

“What the fuck was that?” he said, his voice edged.

You blinked in shock for a moment as you caught your breath. Then, your lips twitched at a smile.

Ah, you recognized his polite way of asking if you were okay.

“Wow. That’s my caring boyfriend,” you said wryly.

Ben’s expression slackened. You became even more confused, and a little concerned, especially by the fact that you were sitting in his lap, but you both were on the ground.

“What?” you asked him. Why was he looking at you like that? What was happening here?

Ben quirked his head at you in wonder.

“How long have we lived here?” he asked.

Your brows furrowed. Why was he asking you that? But he looked dead serious, like this was a test of some kind.

“Almost a year. What, is your memory fading already?” You joked weakly, despite the way your head was still aching, just much less intense than before.

You realized then that the photo album you made for him for Christmas was on the floor, a couple of pictures displaced.

“What’s this doing on the floor?” You bent over to pick it up, even though just that small movement made your head swim. “Whoa…”

Ben grasped your arms and righted you. He stared into your eyes.

“Do you remember what happened two months ago?” he asked.

He was so damn serious, he was starting to scare you. When you contemplated his question, you realized the fog that had claimed your mind for so long was beginning to lift.

Piece by piece, it returned to you.

You remembered waking up in the hospital, everyone coming to see you, the doctor telling you…

“Something happened to me,” you said slowly, rubbing your aching forehead. Your brows furrowed, and you clung to Ben’s arm. “Am I…am I okay?”

That’s what the fuck I’m trying to figure out, Ben thought.

He reminded you that you were taken by Jackson Rawlins and his brother Tom. Ben, Butcher, and the rest of the team found you, but you’d been hurt. Along with your other injuries, your skull was fractured. It affected your memory, among other things.

“My memory,” you repeated. “Ben, did I…?”

You looked up at him with a small gasp. His face remained stoic, but you saw through it as his gaze veered away from you.

You remembered that he’d been taking care of you with your mother for weeks now. You remembered that you’d forgotten him.

You took his face in your trembling hands. Both sorrow and apology showed in your eyes, along with brimming tears.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry,” you said, through choked emotion. “I can’t believe I…”

Ben didn’t speak, but he met your gaze while trying to stamp down the full force of his relief. He swallowed past an unfamiliar tightening in his throat.

“What do you remember?” he asked.

“That you saved me, as usual,” you laughed through your tears. “And that I owe you this.”

Your thumbs brushed his bearded cheeks in a tender caress, and you brought him down to kiss you. His lips met yours in kind as his eyes closed. He let out a breath through his nose and held you a bit tighter against him. Part of him was still wary of hurting you further, and reluctant to even accept this as real.

After a moment longer, you paused, pulling back a little.

“I guess I’m back,” you said, in the small space between his face and yours.

Ben sighed. He brushed the back of his hand against your cheek, and he claimed your lips again.

Dr. Jeong arrived within the hour to check you over, and to confirm that most of your memories had returned. Meanwhile, her team of nurses checked your vitals and prepped you for a blood transfusion from Ben. In your bedroom, you sat up on your side of the bed while a bag of his O-positive circulated into your bloodstream.

A couple of hours of bed rest later, your body was completely healed, and even free of scars. The powerful ache in your head that had become commonplace had vanished. And afterward, the doctors took up their supplies and left.

You were finally able to take in your familiar surroundings. Your fingertips passed over picture frames on your dresser, the ornate perfume bottle Ben had gotten you for Christmas, your favorite throw blanket you’d tossed carelessly onto the floor this morning. You paused for a moment to look at yourself in the mirror.

It was odd to see yourself dressed in a tank top and pajama pants, slightly frizzy hair around your shoulders, your skin free of any scars. You touched your cheek tentatively, marveling at the way you didn’t feel any pain.

Ben’s frame appeared behind you, as did his hands on your hips. You turned in his arms and pulled him into an embrace. You smiled at the warmth you felt through his shirt. Your own portable heater.

“What’re you thinking?” he asked. He had to wonder at how easily you’d slipped yourself into his arms just now. Yet another small reminder that you were his again.

In answer to his question, you gave a hum of contemplation, all while your hands moved down his back. You looked up at him, your lips curving into a smile.

“I think you can guess this time,” you replied.

Ben’s eyes roamed over you, over your face, your body held in his arms, and back up to your lips.

One more added perk of your “medical treatment” had you pulling him down to you by his shirt for a heated kiss. His strength coursed through your veins, making you more solid and energized than when you were once on V24.

Ben heeded your demanding kiss with a near growl as he took you into his arms and walked you back towards the bed. A warning triggered in his mind, however. It had him cupping the back of your head and laying you down with more gentleness than he usually had with you in times like these.

Not to say that he was overly rough with you, but as he positioned himself above you and began to undress you, tank top and pants flung to the floor, you noticed how careful he was being. After you helped him get rid of his own shirt and pants, you slowed things down for a moment, once again caressing his cheek. It encouraged him to meet your eyes.

“Hey,” you said quietly. “You know I’m pretty much as strong as you right now, right? You won’t hurt me. I’m not in pain anymore.”

Ben nodded, releasing a sharp breath. “Right.”

He knew that, of course. He’d just had to get used to treating you like fragile glass over the past two months. Every time he’d helped you, touched you, cared for you, he’d had to use every ounce of his self-control to temper his strength even more so than usual. It was hard to turn that off.

You smiled. An idea sparked in your head, and you pushed at his chest to let you sit up. There you encouraged him to roll over and switch positions, so that he was lying on his back and you were straddling his hips. You slid your hands up his toned stomach and chest and you bent down to kiss his neck.

He closed his eyes as you burned a wet path across his skin. Your lips traveled down his chest, where he slid his fingers into your hair. It prompted you to look up at him with a smile. Seeing him watching you with half-lidded eyes made a small flood of heat pool between your legs.

You couldn’t help but move back up and guide his face up to yours for a kiss. He deepened it pretty much immediately, his tongue hungrily demanding entrance to your mouth as you began rocking your hips against his.

His hands tightened on your waist, but they soon slid up your sides to unclip your bra. He slid down the panties next, and you broke away for a moment to shimmy them down your thighs. You helped him do the same with his underwear.

He gripped at your thighs and ass hard enough to leave serious bruises, if you were normal. Right now though, your bones, your skin, your touch was just as strong as his. Now, his iron grip just made you smile.

The feeling of your smooth, warm skin under his hands, your wet folds brushing against his straining cock, the promise between your thighs, it all made him groan into your mouth. He sat up and held you to him, skin against flushed skin, your breasts pressing against his chest. He grinded his thick, hard length against your core, earning a breathy moan from you.

“Fuck, I’ve fucking missed you,” he admitted. He fisted a hand into your hair and bared your neck for him. He trailed wet kisses that occasionally grazed with teeth. You shuddered against him as your hands splayed against his back.

“Ben, I’m so sorry,” you whispered in his ear. You held him tighter for a different reason.

“Enough,” he said. His words were gruff, but he soothed a hand through your hair. “It’s over. We’re here now.”

You nodded, biting your lip and blinking against the sting of tears.

What you didn’t know was, the last thing he wanted was for you to apologize to him. He couldn’t fucking tolerate it.

Instead, he reached a hand between you and slid a hand down the inside of your thigh, and then two fingers between your folds, and into your wet heat. He wasted no more time in working you open.

He drew a hot moan from you, one that echoed in his ear while his thumb found your clit, and the rest of his fingers toyed with your pussy. You ached to be filled, and your core was already throbbing around his fingers.

You gripped his hair tight. Your hips began to undulate with the tempo of his pulsing fingers.

“Ben,” you implored and whined at the same time. Your inner walls were squeezing his hand tight as his fingers brushed with purpose over that sensitive place, deep inside you.

“That’s right. Fucking squeeze the shit out of me,” he demanded. “Want you gushing all over my hand.”

“You’re about to get what you want,” you panted. “Fuck…”

He didn’t care that your iron grip was threatening to rip a chunk out of his hair. He was stroking you with single-minded precision, until you finally clamped down that much harder on his hand and gasped in his ear. To him, that sound was his own personal symphony. He never got tired of making you come apart, and making you sing just for him.

And you…well, you certainly never got tired of letting him. This time though, you’d wanted to be on top so you could be the one to make him feel good—and give him a little care after everything that had happened. But you couldn’t even argue when Ben rolled you onto your back again. Still, you slid your hands over his chest.

“I wanted to give you some star treatment,” you said breathlessly. You began to sit up again. “Here, let me—”

“You’re gonna let me fuck you deep into this fucking mattress ‘til we break a few springs,” he said. “That sound good for you?”

He bent down and sucked hard at your neck. Meanwhile, he grabbed your thighs and hooked your legs around his waist.

“O-Okay,” you agreed, your eyes closing. You gasped as he bit down just under your ear, marking you as his, and earning another gasp of pleasure from you as your body pressed against his.

Then he lined his cock up to your entrance. Once he breached your folds, your squeezing grip on his arms encouraged him to sheathe himself inside you, sliding all the way home.

You shuddered at the delicious feeling of being filled. Your heels pressed into his back, urging him to keep moving. He still took the time to brush his hand against your cheek, a tender caress.

You blinked up at him with a smile. He gave you one back, albeit more reserved. In turn, you swept his hair away from his eyes, like you were wont to do. He secretly reveled in the feeling of it, the familiarity of you. He turned his head and laid a kiss against your wrist.

But after that brief flash of tenderness, Ben pushed forward, quite literally, to steal your breath away. Each new stroke of his cock deep inside you made the coil of warmth and pleasure tighten, for both of you. The sound of mingled breaths and flesh against flesh filled the room as you two moved together. And in this, you two had always been in sync.

His hand moved between you to circle roughly at your clit.

“Come on, baby. At least one more for me.”

You nodded, panting for breath. You moved the angle of his hand to just right, and his last pounding strokes finally drove you over the edge. You came shortly before he did, spilling into you with hot abandon and a ragged sound in his throat.

You two recovered there for a moment. He rested his forehead against yours, and again, you swept your fingers through his sweaty hair.

Eventually, he pulled back and opened his eyes to meet yours. He grasped your free hand off his shoulder and pressed a kiss into your palm. Then he smirked down at you.

“Welcome home,” he said.

Long afterwards, your body felt like warm molasses. You’d both gotten cleaned up and now shared the bed properly in rest. You were half-dozing while you laid warm, comfortable, and naked in his arms.

You’d called your mom earlier to let her know what had happened today, and that you’d recovered fully following the blood transfusion…and if she wanted to grab dinner with Louisa tonight before coming home, then that would give you and Ben some time to “catch up.”

Thankfully, Marie had enough tact to read between the lines. She told you that she’d be back later this evening, and Louisa would come to visit you again tomorrow.

You were at peace as you trailed lazy patterns across Ben’s chest while he smoked a blunt.

He deserves it, you thought with a smile. That led you to shift onto your side and rest your weight on your elbow, above his shoulder.

“You know something?” you said. “Thank you for being so gentle with me throughout all this. I know I didn’t always give you an easy time of it.”

Ben shook his head, smiling slightly before he blew out a puff.

“What else is fucking new?” he said. You smiled too, but you still grabbed his chin, so he’d look at you.

“I’m serious,” you said. “Thank you.”

He sobered, letting out another coil of smoke through his nose.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Your head quirked. You released him to caress his cheek instead.

“Yeah, babe. I’m all healed up now,” you reassured.

“Not entirely what I meant,” he said. He hesitated, his gaze dropping, before it met yours again. “…It took us three days to find you.”

That made you dim with more sobering consideration, when you realized what he meant. You had finally remembered what you went through with the Rawlins brothers, held captive in that dark, disgusting cave. A shudder ran down your spine.

Those memories had only just returned to you a few hours ago, and you’d immediately shut them away in the “don’t file this into your core memories” pile. You really hadn’t had too much time to reflect on that, or even process it all really.

Tears stung at your eyes, and your lower lip trembled, but you tried to breathe past it, closing your eyes.

“I’m okay now. It’s in the past,” you said.

In other words, denial of the purest form.

Ben shook his head with a sigh. He put out his blunt on the ashtray on his nightstand, setting it aside. He slid a hand up your back and gathered you closer against his chest. You rested your head there.

You sucked in a tremulous breath, and your tears finally fell. You sniffed and tried to bat them away, but you let the sound of his heartbeat steady you.

What you’d been through was…beyond words. It was more than you’d ever been through, even with your father. Even though you were grateful to be you again, there were also things you wished you could forget again. Things that were etched into your psyche, and you were certain you’d see them again when you next closed your eyes.

“It shouldn’t have fucking happened,” Ben said. "This one's on me."

His voice dislodged you from your spiraling thoughts, if for the moment. It drew your eyes back up to his as your mouth parted. You knew that was his way of apologizing.

“Ben, it wasn't your fault,” you said, laying a hand on his chest.

He gave you a measured look.

“We both know that’s not true,” he said. Always to the point.

“And…” he began to add, but he cut himself off. You tilted your head at him.

“And?” you prompted.

Ben’s lips pressed together in hesitation. He almost wished he hadn’t set down his blunt. Instead, he looked you in the eyes like a man.

“Your family doesn’t know who’s really responsible for this,” he said. The admission was a small weight off his heart, even though he didn’t want to acknowledge that bit. “All they know is that it was…retaliation.”

You looked up at him then, with a frown.

“You mean Mom and Louisa? You didn’t tell them it was the Rawlins brothers,” you clarified.

After a moment, Ben nodded. "Yeah."

You could thought you could also read between the lines of what he wasn’t saying.

Who’s really responsible for this…

You took in a deep breath, then you released it. You had a feeling your mother would understand if you told her the truth, but Louisa, on the other hand?

“Okay,” you said. “That’s probably for the best, anyway.”

He tacitly agreed, even if the well-hidden depths of his guilt remained. You saw all that too.

Before he reached for his blunt again, you took his hand. You laced your fingers with his, and raised your joined hands to your lips, pressing a kiss over his knuckles.

“Look, I knew what I was getting into when we decided to be together,” you said. “I don’t regret it, because…I love you.”

Ben’s gaze began to drift away, but you turned his face back to you with a finger.

“I love you,” you repeated, with emotion making your eyes sting. “I know we’ll get past this. Probably with copious amounts of therapy on my end, but we will.”

Ben considered that with a shallow nod. He couldn’t help but reach for you, cupping your cheek. He bent down to press a lingering kiss against your forehead. He stayed there for a moment, just thinking.

You gave him the time he needed, and in the meantime, you let yourself be comforted by his warmth and closeness. You also wiped away your remaining tears, sniffling.

“Okay,” he said, at last.

“Okay?” you echoed. “What does that mean?”

“This,” he said, and guided your face to his for another kiss. He claimed you slowly, but with purpose. And, after a slight pause, he allowed himself to speak an ultimate truth.

“I love you,” Ben said. His face wasn’t stoic, or reluctant. It was honest.

“I may not say it enough,” he continued, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “But it's you and me. Like Sonny and Cher. When they were good, before the ugly divorce. Or like Bonnie and Clyde. Just, you know, without the grisly end bit."

You laughed and shook your head incredulously. Sign this man up for Hallmark cards.

Ben made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

"Whatever. The point is, you’re mine, understand?" he said. "That’s just how it is.”

“Is that right?” you teased. A smile tugged at Ben’s lips as well.

“That’s right,” he affirmed, squeezing your waist. You laughed a little more and settled back into resting against his chest.

“Okay,” you replied.

And for now, it really was.

AN: Ahh, the end of a series is always bittersweet, no? I had a lot of fun with this BMD mini series, and I hope you did too! I'm sure I'll come back to these two eventually (there are still BMD requests in my inbox), but let me know what you thought of how we wrapped up here with Wake Me Up. 💚

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Coming up next, we have a pivotal part of the BMD story:

Summary: After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out? (In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)

▶️ Next Story: Strong as Blood

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD/Series Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28

@nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022

@emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky

@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun

@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420

@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

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bigassmoonchild · 1 year

Text

Feral

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

The first three parts give context, but aren't required for this read.

Summary: You had your problems with your squad, no different than anyone else running their first. One Alpha, Michael, gave you the most problems, dragging you from leave to punish them all. It didn't take long for him to become your biggest problem, or for Simon to try and take care of him.

Content Tags: Shouting (not w/ between Ghost & Reader), A lot of Anger, Fluff, Protective Ghost, Violence, Fighting, Ghost shows his Face, Non-Sexual Punishments, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No use of Y/N

A/N: I woke up this morning with over 100 notifications from tumblr, and I've spent all morning trying to think of another part for Maple Syrup. As always, content is under the cut and my asks are wide open <3.

Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

Ghost could watch you forever. Seeing how you flit around the soldiers, taking care of each of them, barking orders at your own little squad. After being removed from missions, you were able to convince whoever would listen to give you a squad to train, a group of hopeful combat medics.

Sometimes he would find himself watching what you were doing, and he would inch himself close enough to hear what you'd be telling them. Sometimes, it was nothing short of you screaming at them, other times it might be explaining how to stitch someone up. Most times, you sat back and watched as they worked through the exercise that you had created for them.

You were still off on leave, leaving your squad under the hands of Soap and Gaz to train them further on combat situations. Ghost had spoken with them a few times, listening to them rant about the soldiers you had to deal with. Especially one Alpha, who had been demoted from a regular soldier to being entrusted with saving others.

So when Ghost got the first hint of your scent, not the stale one, his head spun to the doors. Your leave was supposed to last another 6 days, not that Ghost was counting, and worry spiked through him. Had something happened? Was everything okay with your family, or did you merely forget one of the gifts you were giving to your nieces and nephews?

When the door slammed open, your eyes gazed across the mess hall. Your brows were furrowed and Ghost could smell the anger lacing your scent, alongside the musty smell of the rain that was coming down. The room had gone silent, everyone looking over at you. Your eyes locked on your squad, body tensed.

"Get the fuck outside," you growled, staring through your squad. They hesitated and your fist slammed into the wall. "Now!" You shouted, watching as they scrambled up and moved. All but the Alpha, who moved leisurely. Your eyes didn't leave his and you pointed. "You move any slower and I'll have you dishonorably discharged for insubordination," the man didn't flinch.

He gave a smile, looking at you. "You're not even a soldier, you have no say in what I do," your muscles relaxed, leaning your head back, eyes falling closed. Ghost stood, moving towards the two of you, opening his mouth to say something.

"You're on my squad, you do as I say, unless you want me to remove you. You want this to be your last strike?" The Alpha looked away, opening his mouth to make a remark.

"I'm sure there isn't going to be a problem, is there?" Ghost finally spoke up, moving beside the man and staring down at him. The Alpha scoffed and walked away, leaving you looking around.

You gave a soft smile. "Leave your stuff, it'll be cleaned up," and you turned and walked away, adjusting a hood onto your head. Ghost stared after you before walking back to Soap and Gaz, sitting beside them again.

"What the hell happened?"

You stood in the rain, having grabbed another jacket to protect you from the chill of the wind, alongside the rain beating against you. Your squad was running until they collapsed or someone admitted who caused the problems. You knew, though, that the stubborn Alpha in your squad was always the problem.

"You need to get back here," Soap said into the phone. "I honestly don't know what to do with them," and you booked a flight.

Now you were waiting, patiently. Someone would give in soon enough, someone always did. There would always be a weak link, and if it took running them until they threw up so be it. A hand fell on your shoulder and you looked back, eyes climbing to find Ghost standing behind you.

"I've never heard you scream," you laughed, looking back to your squad. The Alpha ran at the front of them, no reaction to the amount of running he was doing. You were pretty sure he had lapped everyone at some point, but you weren't paying close enough attention.

You looked back to Ghost. "You have most definitely heard me scream, just not angrily. Soap called, said that the squad was getting out of control and they didn't know what to do," you sighed. "I thought I taught them better, but I guess I haven't treated them exactly like soldiers," Ghost hummed behind you, eyes trailing the Alpha.

A shiver ran through you and Ghost pulled you back into him, letting you soak in his own warmth. "Does he always give you problems?" You nodded, letting him take on your weight as you leaned against him.

"There is rarely a day that goes by when he doesn't give some form of lip, but everyone's grown used to it, I guess," you whispered, sighing deeply. It bothered you, so much, that you couldn't get all of your squad to act like it. Like a pack. "He's just trying to take control back. He was kicked from his last squad because of similar problems, speaking down on Betas and Omegas," Ghosts scent changed a little, but you weren't able to decipher what it was before it had disappeared.

Neither of you spoke for some time, merely watching the group of wanna-be's run around and around. You wanted to be back home, with your family and watching the little ones run around, not some grown adults. You just wanted to be able to control the squad like other people, but you needed a break. So you went on leave, but came back too soon.

There wasn't much of choice, though. Either let Soap and Gaz keep getting eaten alive, or you come back and beat them back down, but maybe if you talked to Simon he would've been able to help. No, this was your squad, they were your responsibility. You'd have to be a Drill Sergeant, and it was already giving you a headache.

You pushed off Ghost, watching as one of the Omegas stumbled before righting herself. You gave a deep sigh. "Get over here!" You shouted over the rain and wind. As everyone gathered, you glared through them. "I am not your mother. I shouldn't be coming back from leave early because your senior officers are unable to control you," you huffed, looking away for a moment.

The rain still pattered down, and the Alpha was looking away. You couldn't decipher how you felt about him, but you knew it was heavy dislike. Something about the man made you uncomfortable.

"You'd expect a group of adults to behave better than a group of pups, but I suppose none of you have grown," the Alpha opened his mouth to speak and Ghost took a step forward, daring him to make a comment. "I haven't been treating you as soldiers, clearly, so from now on you'll be meeting up with Task Force 141 to being your morning training," a smile graced your features.

You'd spoken with Price briefly over the phone on your flight back. It didn't take much to convince him, and his tone gave you the chills once or twice as he described what he could do. You didn't mention anything to Ghost. You weren't entirely sure what he would do if he found out you were being dragged away from your family because of a problem child.

Everything was still in the air, what you would end up doing with them. As you gazed across, the only person not having any form of regret was the Alpha. Michael. If you could, you would have rejected him from being a part of your team. You'd read his file, it was nothing short of infraction after infraction.

You gave a deep breath. "You're going to go into the mess hall and clean it, if I come in there tomorrow and find even a crumb you'll be stuck cleaning it every day until you leave," no one moved. "What are you waiting for?" They scattered into the wind, Michael still taking everything at his own speed.

Ghost grabbed his soldier, eyes not leaving the mans. "You'll be with me," and you watched him get dragged away. You were finally free to take a warm shower, perhaps curl into your nest for some sleep you'd lost while traveling.

It was late in the evening when you heard from Simon. He had walked into your room, taking his boots off and crawling next to you in your nest. His balaclava scratched at your neck as he scented you, brushing his cheek against you.

You turned the page in your book, letting the large Alpha nearly curl around you. Your fingers found the top of his head, scratching at him over the balaclava. Yet to see his face, you never pushed it. It was none of your business to push him, even as his mate.

You could hear him chuffing softly, nose digging into your neck slightly. It was quiet for some time, outside of the chuffing of Simon and the pages turning from your book. His hands were around you, tugging you closer to him as your fingers continued scratching.

The chuffing quieted, a bothered grunt coming from him. "Want to feel your hand," he muttered, tugging at his balaclava before being able to pull it off entirely.

You didn't look, didn't move, just kept on reading as your fingers found hair. That made you pause, brows furrowed as you turned to look at him from where he returned to your neck, his chuffs returning.

Purring, you tugged him to look at you, book falling from your hand. Simon groaned softly, trying to pull his head out of your grip. A quiet be still, coming from you before he paused, eyes opening to glance down at you.

Scars littered his face, your fingers finding some of the larger ones to stroke at, trying to memorize every part of his face. You could see his cheeks growing a little red and you laughed softly, pressing your hands to his cheeks.

"Little embarrassed of being looked at so thoroughly?" Simon looked away, finally pulling out of your grip and hiding his face back against your neck. You could feel him lick you slightly, laying down a nip or two, his hands tugging you against him again.

It was a few moments later that either of you finally said anything. "What did you do with Michael?" Simon huffed against you, a quiet who?, coming from him. "The Alpha you pulled away from the rest of the squad," you added.

Simon pulled away to look at you fully. "Nothing illegal," you looked at him, smile dropping. He gave you a little grin. "Just gave him some things to do to get all of his energy out, he had a little too much to be acting that way," you laughed.

The next morning, you had a knock on your office door. "Come in," it wasn't anyone you would've expected. Not Ghost, nor Soap or Gaz. Michael.

He slammed his hands on your desk and leaned over it. "I want out," you raised your brows. "I'm not gonna let some little doctor think she can control me," you gave out a deep sigh. "And what about Ghost? You fuck him to get where you are?"

"My relationship with the Lieutenant is none of your business, soldier," you answered, crossing your legs. "You want out? You leave this squad and it's the last place you'll be. You know you can't join the military again if you get discharged. Too many infractions," you shrugged, pulling his file out of your desk. He looked at it.

Lunging for it, you pulled it out of his reach. "Who the hell gave that to you?" You laughed at him, his scent changing to something reeking of anger. God, why were you able to smell him? "Or, is it because you're an Omega?" He smiled shortly.

You stood. "You haven't been taking your suppressants as prescribed, have you?" There was no other answer for why he was so angry constantly. Without a consistent dosage, the androstenone in him would be too high to think properly. He could go feral.

Lunging for your phone, you were only able to get one number dialed before he threw it into the wall. "A little Omega bitch, fucking Ghost in order to get where she is," he snorted. The door was cracked open still, but Michael was in the way. There was no leaving.

Looking away, you blinked slowly. "I'm assuming this is how you were removed from your last squad," he threw your chair into the wall and you opened the file.

"You have no right to read that, you bitch," he growled, trying to grab it over your desk. You pulled it back, Michael growling deep in his chest. "You're gonna give me that, or I'm gonna fucking kill you," you could feel your heart in your stomach. Sure, you could fight but it was nothing with an almost feral Alpha trying to kill you.

Glancing around, you had to look for something to hopefully protect yourself with. A man like Michael could easily kill you, you didn't doubt it. One wrong punch and you'd be in the infirmary, another and you could be out of it. Forever.

"You touch her and you'll find out why I'm feared," Simon. You could feel the relief coursing through you. He wouldn't let anything happen to you, let alone allow another Alpha to hurt you. You looked between the two, seeing Michaels face slowly start to drop.

You dove under your desk the second either of them moved, a growl ripping through the area as you heard a body slam into the wall in front of you. You knew the fear on your scent would be pungent, especially to Ghost.

And it was. He could smell it from down the hall, causing a spark of fear to course through himself. The only other thing he could smell was another Alpha, and he hoped to god he wouldn't be too late. When he opened the door just a tad bit more, he heard the threats.

It set something off in him that he hadn't felt in a long, long time. He didn't hesitate before throwing the other Alpha into the wall, seeing you dive under your desk in his peripheral. His fists found the man, but it barely did anything. A feral Alpha would do anything to kill whoever he saw, and Ghost could hear shouts coming from the hall.

Michael charged at Ghost, who braced for impact, colliding with him and being dragged into the hall and on the wall across from your office. Ghosts knee found Michael gut, throwing him onto the ground and climbing over him.

Some MP's had come careening down the hall, guns up and shouting commands. Ghost tried holding the man down, but it didn't do too much before he was bucked off and climbing to his feet. The fear was still pungent on your scent and it set Ghost off.

He couldn't do anything before gunshots echoed down the hall and Michael collapsed. A few tranq darts scattered along his back.

Ghost was put on administrative leave, pending investigation. You'd used the rest of your leave to be able to stay with him and for the entire duration you weren't out of his eyesight.

Showering? He was standing against the far wall, staring through the doorway.

Trying to use the bathroom? The locks on your bathroom doors had never been used more, and when you left he would be standing in front of it.

For some time you had also been far to shaken to let Simon leave your eyesight. There was nothing he would do that you weren't following him for, his showers left you sitting on the counter and talking to him, even without a response. You didn't go into the bathroom with him, but sat by the door as your eyes flittered around to each corner of the room, looking for feral Alphas.

Before either of you became more comfortable, Simon wouldn't even go into your nest. He would sit outside of it, never moving much at all. It took you panicking in the middle of the night for him to start going back inside of your nest.

Neither of you knew what the future would look like, but as long as you had each other, you figured you'd be alright.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #no use of y/n #canon typical violence #fights #Protective Ghost #cod mw2 #call of duty #ghost mw2 #modern warfare ii #reader insert #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #alpha/beta/omega verse #i got to season 4 #i hope you guys like it #Maple Syrup

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hippielittlemetalhead · 3 months

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Never Took The Time (To Forget) part 4.2: Robin's Boy

A.N: Life is kinda sucky right now with job hunting, surviving at my current job, the strains that come with being a caregiver to a family member while maintaining a long distance relationship and just dealing with mental and emotional self-care. So here's this, super late and not beta-read but at least I wrote it.

As always, feel free to yell at/with me in the comments, tags and/or ask box.

Part 1 (Hop fucks up), Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce's Edition), Part 3 (One of Us), Part 4.1 (With a Capital 'P'), Part 5 (Man Of The Hour)

There's not much that surprises Robin Buckley these days. She gets queasy at the sight of ground beef, the big friendly dogs a few doors down at the O'Reilly place make her blood run cold, she can't watch the old Russian movies her dad loves without having nightmares after and she's sleeping with a nightlight for the first time since she was six. But it takes a lot to surprise her.

Seeing the declared dead Chief of Police step out of a sleek black, obviously-secret-government-bullshit car flanked by an agent she recognizes as one of Owens' lackeys from last July when they were making the rounds with Government funded medical care contingent on signing sketchy NDAs? Just par for the course at this point.

Steve's face when Eleven-Jane rushes into the not-dead Chief's arms and it turns into a whole 'Moment'? Said Chief's look of barely interested confusion followed by tired annoyance when Steve drags her in front of him, rambling about Starcourt and new additions to The Party and finally getting to meet 'My Hop'? Yeah, none of that surprises her either. She plays along for Steve, doesn't give Hopper any time to say anything that would take that happy smile off his face or get rid of the way he's practically glowing he's smiling bigger than she's ever seen directed at anyone other than the kids. Tries not to think about the way it makes something in her clench and crouch like a cat getting ready to pounce and bare fangs she didn't realize she had outside of a life and death situation. She introduces herself, maintains eye contact and drags Steve off as fast as she can to do something, anything, that will distract him from trying to catch up like the Byers clan is with the kids and assembled assorted monster fighters.

She's not surprised when she can't stop Steve from stepping up every time Hopper or Joyce or anyone with a badge says they need anything despite his own still healing wounds. She's not surprised when Hop takes it a step too far.

They're at the Hopper Cabin that is steadily becoming the Hopper-Byers Cottage when Hop tells his and Joyce's shared custody bald parasite that Steve is little more than an annoyance he puts up with for the free babysitting service and manual labor and cause he can go up against shit that would give anyone else nightmares while keeping the kids safe and mostly in-check. She's sitting with Eleven-Jane, sewing patches onto one of Hop's old army jackets, (the kid had seen Eddie's battle vest in Steve's car and it had reminded her of her sister Kali and she'd decided she wanted one of her own for the war ahead and then all of the other rugrats had decided they did too so she and Argyle had taken to giving sporadic sewing lessons whenever the kids had the materials to start their own battle attire) when Steve comes round the corner to the back of the property striding with purpose she rarely saw when he was around his kids.

She leaves her unfinished project on the stump she'd been using as a stool and chases after him. She shooes off curious and worried kids, promising to stick with him, keep the walkie close and on, make sure he was safe and didn't run afoul of any demo-beasts or trigger-happy government goons as he made his way to his car and then wherever else he was marching his happy ass.

She hates the fact that when they're both finally back at the little apartment that Owens' yes-men had acquired for Steve when Harrington Sr. decided to be an opportunist prick and kick Steve out for 'not taking care of the house' in the middle of the 'earthquake', that Steve hasn't shed a single tear. She hates that she's not surprised.

He doesn't say anything as he kicks off his Nikes and shuffles over to the 'second-hand' couch they'd gotten from Mrs. Henderson (Steve and Robin were both fully aware she'd just gotten it shortly before Spring break and was in no way in need of a new one so soon, but they both also knew better than to call her out on her kindness). He doesn't look up at her from his spot curled in amongst the throw pillows and blankets they'd been gifted by parents of various members of the party after Hopper and Owens' story that the two of them had saved the kids again from some freak incident like last year with Starcourt. She pulls out the thick quilt they had found in the latest donations bins when Hawkin's government supervised relief force started outsourcing for supplies and basic comforts. He stares at the wall where they'd hung an oversized corkboard dedicated to polaroids and photo booth strips and even some properly printed pictures of the little monster fighting family they'd put together.

She can't pull him out of this, no matter how much she may want to. There's some places his mind goes only Eleven-Jane would be able to reach and neither of them were going to put more on that girl's plate. So she puts on a Bruce Springsteen record she used to hate and curls up as close as she can to him through the quilt and pillows. Every now and then she gets up to get them both water, to grab some crackers to try and coax him into eating and to switch over to a new record or just flip the one on the player but she always comes back to her spot next to her Steve.

"Whatever he said to you, you know it's not true. Right? You're worth more than a dozen undead cops on a power trip." That gets an amused huff.

"Seriously Stevie, the kids adore you, I swear all the moms in Hawkins think you're the best thing since sliced bread and I don't know what I'd do without my personal chump. We're soulmates, remember? One of these days we're gonna mind meld like Spock and McCoy and we'll be unstoppable. I can't make it without my McCoy, Bones."

"I can't make it without you either, you hobgoblin. Thanks Bobby."

The next day is better. Steve is still a little quiet, a little droopy. But he's present and there's a simmering anger underneath his smile that Robin is proud to see him acknowledging but makes her worry about him as he ushers her into his car to drop her off on her rare lone shift at Family Video before he heads out to a quick 'consultation patrol' with some military special operatives to check out something weird by one of the new cracks.

No one had told any of the kids yet, about the cracks starting to spread out in smaller fissures like a slowly spreading infection. Hadn't thought it necessary with Steve and Nancy (both now legal adults and wasn't the government taking full advantage of that) there as a first line of communication while Joyce wrangled a restless Hop as he settles back in and heals and spars with Owens over payouts and government aide for the town and what the growing military presence was and wasn't allowed to do. With the parents occupied the kids had come together tighter than ever, focusing on their injured and recovering from the nightmare fuel that was their spring break. No one noticed.

She can't help the rant she falls into as they drive through checkpoints and past regular civilians being escorted through areas a little too close to a Gate for comfort. She goes on about how half of the soldiers act like Steve is just one of them and the other half treat him with the same cautious curiosity they do Eleven-Jane whenever she makes her way to the 'front lines' these days. She wants to get the weird boy-speak head nods too! Even Nancy gets them, especially when she's walking around with her sawed-off strapped to a jerry-rigged hip-holster. Robin has used Darlin' before, she's speed poured Molotov Cocktails to hand to soldier boys trying not to piss their pants as Steve and Nancy barked orders as they tried to down a demogorgon fresh from the Upside-Down. Where's her battlefield camaraderie?

It makes him laugh and shake his head fondly as he calls her crazy and weird with that soft smile on his face that makes her chest feel warm and fuzzy like her parents' hugs used to when she was 10 and crawled into their bed after having a nightmare. She doesn't tell him to be careful as they turn down onto Main street or to make sure he comes back in one piece as he rolls to a stop in front of the dark storefront. She starts on another tangent about him abandoning her to the drudgery of Capitalism as he gets to frolic in the woods with a bunch of burly men with their toys before he laughingly reaches over her to open her door to start pushing her out of the car. He smiles big and dopey as she practically spills onto the asphalt, still rambling away about neglectful soulmates and abuses of driving power with smatterings of claims that she'll take over his apartment if he dies and use his ashes as fertilizer for the plants he's taken to keeping on the fire-escape outside the living room window if he dares to leave her alone to babysit his hellions.

He shoots back a final, "Love you too Bobby!" before taking off towards where he's meeting the scientists and soldiers he's supposed to lead through Upside Down infected woods. As he leaves her standing on the sidewalk he doesn't make any sort of promise to be safe, to let the government goons just do their job, to make it back to her alive or in one piece. Not even to make it back to her. She plays with the locket she's taken to wearing that holds a curled up braid of hair shades darker than hers or anyone's in her family.

She doesn't watch his car to the end of the street like she might have before Spring Break, after their Starcourt 'adventure', instead she takes a deep breath and unlocks the dumb video store in this dumb town full of dumb people who don't know when to call it quits and just get the hell out of Dodge. She boots up the computer leaving it to warm up while she starts sorting through whatever mess the new shmucks Steve insisted they hire to cover what times the two of them couldn't because of the Arcade (which they had also gone and hired more staff for now that people weren't one tremor away from rioting in the streets) and Upside Down/ government related shenanigans they ended up getting dragged into.

The bell above the door jingles and she has to bite back a groan. "Welcome to Family Video, I literally just got here so you're gonna have to give me a minute before I can help you."

"Afraid we've only got movies round here, officer. You want any other medium of entertainment I'd suggest the arcade or the distribution yard." She won't turn to face him, not sure she can keep her cool if she does right now. Her hands move on muscle memory, shuffling papers into their proper piles and flipping open VHS cases to check if they need to be rewound. "Sorry, guess we'll have to catch up another time."

"I'm uh, I'm not here for a movie." She may have only heard his voice a couple of times and in passing but she didn't call her ears little geniuses for nothing. She forces her body to relax, lowering her shoulders the way Steve taught her to and keeping her voice light like Eddie walked her through, calling on his Theatre Kid skill set to teach the Party how to convincingly lie improvise when being questioned by people who really did not need to know just what was going on in good old Hawkins.

She can hear him sigh and can't help but picture his hand running over the fuzz on his head the way Steve runs his hands through his coif more and more nowadays in a way he never did before Nancy, before he got pulled into this bullshit and Hopper was rumored to be the one signing his paperwork and taking responsibility for him when his parents didn't show up after an almost week long stay at the hospital. "Look, I know you don't like me. And it has been brought to my attention just how much I fucking earned that. But I- I need your help here. To fix it."

There's not much that surprises Robin Buckley these days. She gets queasy at the sight of ground beef and meatloaf covered in ketchup, the big friendly dogs a few doors down at the O'Reilly place she used to pet and give snacks to on her way to and from school make her blood run cold, she can't watch the old Russian movies she and her dad used to stay up late watching together without having nightmares after and she's sleeping with a nightlight by her bed for the first time since she was six. But it takes a lot to surprise her. Jim Hopper might have just done it.

She doesn't stop moving, doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of throwing her off. She fiddles with the sharp little knife she has tucked up her shirt sleeve in the little sheath she and Steve put together between shuffling papers, taps at the button on her vest hiding the mic attached to the walkie talkie that never leaves her pocket these days. When she finally turns to look at him she's not surprised by the thinness of his frame or the way his eyes and cheeks still look a little sunken in. She sees the tired father worried for his kids and his people and his town, angry at the government for their involvment and their stupidity that she had come to expect. She is not expecting the remorse, the fear, she sees looking back at her. She wonders for a moment what he sees when he looks at her, at any of the teens and kids and young adults he's fought alongside trying to stop the end of the world.

"Fine. He'll be back from his patrol-" He looks mildly confused for a moment, meaning Joyce hadn't been passing along even the minimal information Nancy and Steve had been giving her to relay to Hop and the rest of the Party. That would have to be it's own discussion at some point probably. "-in about twenty minutes. You have fifteen. Now why should I help you?"

"You care about Harringt- Steve. You're close, the two of you have been basically Siamese Twins since Starcourt from what I hear. I- I realize that I made a mistake dumb enough shitting Mike Wheeler is making more sense than me, that I fucked up in a way I don't fucking know how to fix. And I am asking. Politely. For your help."

Honestly she's not sure she believes him. Honestly he's surprised her more times in the last five minutes than most anything or anyone else has in the last year. The man has a lot to unpack and the situation with Steve is just a drop in the man's pile of shit he's managed to bury himself under but maybe there's some hope yet.

She checks the watch on her wrist (an obscenely expensive piece Steve got from one of his parents' rich friends at a holiday party he was too young to remember on a leather band that he had outgrown and never got around to replacing) and looks back at Hop. Ten more minutes. "Why are you here?"

Hop groans in that growly sort of way that makes her think of her grandpa Dale, a great bear of a man who had given the best hugs with shoulders to put Jim Hopper to shame. The no-longer-chief runs his hand over his fuzz again, one hand propped on his hip as he shifts his weight to one side and she tamps down the flicker of biting anger at another example of the ways Steve had shaped himself after a man who never gave him the respect or care he deserved.

"I don't know how to fix what I fucked up. Steve's a good kid, I can admit that now. And he didn't deserve my bullshit just cause I couldn't get past old highschool biases. I wasn't there for him like I should have been- like I told him I would be when I signed those papers. But he's not the kid I thought he was, he's nothing like his folks or the other trust fund brats who think they run this shithole town. I don't know what I'm doing. I just know that kid deserves better than I've been doing."

She hums like she's mulling over his little speech to hide the way she's freaking out a little over what to say to all that. Even she doesn't know how she and Steve got to where they are beyond being tortured by Russians for information they didn't have then being drugged out of their minds while fighting inter-dimensional flesh monsters. But she doesn't think that would help Hop much in this situation.

But she thinks she believes him. At least for now.

"Alright, I'll help you with Steve." Hop sighs, his shoulders dropping as he seems to unclench slightly. Seriously, that much tension cannot be good for him after being in a Russian gulag for almost a year. "But not because I think you deserve it. You were right, Steve deserves better, but he wants you and Joyce and the kids to be in his life. Be a part of it. That is the only reason I will help you. He deserves a better dad than the one he's had and for some reason he thinks you're like super-dad."

"I- How the fuck did I not- What the hell?"

Robin shrugs, "The human brain is good at weeding out what it doesn't want to see. You didn't want to see Steve until you had to and that realization brought you to me. So. Ignorance is bliss and all that."

"So what do I do?"

She checks her watch again. "He'll be running late, especially if the fissure he's checking out is as bad as we think it is. So you have time to run back home, get Joyce to make extra of whatever monstrosity of a casserole she's trying to make this week and you get your rugrats to figure out a way to be the last drop off after Steve takes the brats to the arcade later instead of sleeping off whatever knocks he gets on patrol today. Then instead of letting him head home you make him come inside for dinner. Use the excuse of finding out he's been doing patrols if you have to. But you make him go inside and sit his ass down and eat something and you let him just- let him just be, Hop." She's running out of time but there is just so much she wants to get through to him. "Just make him feel like you see him."

"I- I'll try."

"Yeah, sure. Just-" She bites back the vitriol she wants to projectile vomit in his direction. "Just don't hurt him again. He's more than just a babysitter or front lines muscle. And I will make you wish you were back with the Russians if you make him forget that."

"I believe you."

"Good." The bell over the door jingles again and she looks past Hop to see a group of teenagers making their way to the comedies. "Now I have to get to work and you need to not be here by the time Steve comes to check on me. So talk to you later, Chief."

"Right. Thanks for your help, kid."

She shrugs him off as he turns to head out. The teens are watching him not-so-discreetly as they try to act like they're looking through the latest releases. She forgets that the man is as much a mystery as the heavy-duty military forces that have taken over their small town.

"Alright, folks. What are we looking for today?" She still technically has a job to do even if the kids keep their distance from her like they do the rest of the Party who at this point have all been seen either spending time with said heavy-duty military forces or chasing something into the dark of the forest wielding weapons smeared in monster blood, or both. It's going to be a long day.

Tag list (I think this is everyone?)(if your tag didn't work let me know cause they don't always work for me Idk why):

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth @dead-cherry-bitch @irethsune @ink777 @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner @ledleaf @pansexuality-activated @paintsplatteredandimperfect @kinryuuki @yikes-a-bee @altocumulustranslucidus @ohimamarigold @samsoble @sensationalsunburst @xxbottlecapx @y4r3luv @swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas @rootbeerandmusic @vinteraltus @wonderland-girl143-blog @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @steddie-as-they-go @steveshairspray86 @youdrewstarsxaroundmyscars @i-amthepizzaman @wormapothacary @croatoan-like-its-hot @maya-custodios-dionach @ineffable-monster-romancer @asquareinverona @ellietheasexylibrarian @pukner @bookworm0690 @nightmareglitter @joekeerysmoles @salchica @lawrencebshoggoth @iheartjennaaa @child-of-cthulhu @anaibis @rocochen20 @katdeerly @samcoxramblings

#rambler writes #nttttf verse #Never Took The Time (To Forget)#Robin pov #platonic soulmates stobin #rambler writes fic #stranger things fic #post season 4 #hopper adopts steve #but make it sad #not part of any exchange or big bang #I would love to do one of those but the energy is not with me

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